Chapter Text
She had seen the World Guardian a few times since they met, and talked on occasion too. The human was sympathetic, but Angof had never wanted sympathy. They tried to be empathetic, too, but of course could not fully understand. No one could barring those who had lived it: those she had loved, who had lost themselves to the crystal.
She talked to her loved ones still, though their ability to reply varied. Recently her cousin Lysanthir had come to her house, perhaps by accident, perhaps drawn to the fire, perhaps following some half-lost memory. Regardless of the cause, she had taken him in and tried her best to talk to him, as if nothing had changed. He had said nothing in reply; the most he had done was look at her as she spoke. Better than some. At least it was a reassurance to see his familiar face.
Aside from that, life continued. Nothing happened to surprise her, to change the way she lived, to give her any kind of hope. She continued with the same bitter resilience that had pushed her through year after year.
Then the visits began.